


Day 6. Peacekeeper Barbie

by DarthFucamus



Series: Kinktober 2018 [3]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Biting, Cock Tease, Cock Worship, Corsetry, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fetish Clothing, Fraternization, Fraternizing with a Superior, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Latex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-12 04:44:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthFucamus/pseuds/DarthFucamus
Summary: Kinktober day 6: Cock Worship, Corsets, BitingScorpius and Special Assistant Niem entertain themselves between Aurora chair "guests"





	Day 6. Peacekeeper Barbie

Niem reset the Aurora Chair for the next subject, her black latex-clad fingers flying over the console. She was absorbed in her task, but when a gloved hand snaked around her neck and tightened around her throat, she froze mid-typing, eyes locked straight ahead.

“Status report?” Scorpius prompted, careful and calm. The fingers flexed but didn’t tighten.

“All systems functioning within optimal parameters, Sir,” Niem answered. Her words came out a little choked despite her efforts.

“When will it be ready for our next guest?” her superior officer asked, stroking the front of her throat as she swallowed against his fingertips.

“It’s re-aligning to accommodate Sebacean neurology now. Sir.” Niem glanced down at the console without moving her head. “It’ll be ready in fifteen microns.”

“Hmmm.” Scorpius’s almost sing-song noise of contemplation inspired a tingle in her belly. “Plenty of time for some recreation, if you’re not otherwise occupied.”

She studied the readings on the control station, but her mind was on the hand sliding down to her shoulder and the other curling around her rigid hourglass midsection. Her plush purple lips twitched in a subtle smile.

“Not at all,” she said, looking over her shoulder to the dark shape standing at her back.

She rested her hands on top of his, tentative. With a soft snarl, he ripped his hands out from under hers and grabbed her by her armor-corseted waist. With a gasp from her, he jerked her body back into his. Her hip rolled into him, mashing the soft curve of her bum against his rigid codpiece. The second skin of soft, glossy latex squeaked, quieter than her shallow breaths.

Without letting go of her waist, he flicked aside her long, straight red locks with his other hand, baring the high-collared side of her neck.

“Your appearance is stunning as always, my dear,” Scorpius said in a velvety purr, tugging her against him by the waist. His splayed hand pressed down on the taut, steel-boned curve of her lower belly. “I have looked, but have been unable to find evidence of carelessness in your presentation.”

“I aim for perfection,” Niem said, unflinching, her smile growing under the praise. “It is my obligation when working with someone as astute as you. Sir.”

Scorpius uttered a single sound of amusement, and with the creak of armor segments, he leaned forward.  

“Be careful, Niem,” he said in her ear. “An impossible goal like that might drive you as mad as our regulars.”

His hot breath wafted over the short stretch of bare skin on her neck, and the affected areas rose in goose pimples. He opened his mouth, pressing his thin lips and sharp-edged teeth against her skin for only an instant. Niem let a small gasp escape when the contact shot straight to her cunt. Leather creaked and her body trembled with the effort it took to hold so still.

“What about you? Sir.”

He made the growling nasal inhale that she so loved to hear. Then those teeth bit down hard, his tight lips sealed tight and he sucked a swell of soft flesh into his mouth. Niem moaned a plea as the sensation sharpened until she was sure he would break skin or rupture it with the forceful suction of his mouth. Her lower back bowed back into him, mashing her yielding bum against his front.

His mouth released her and his breath chilled the damp place on her neck.

“I can’t afford to be anything but flawless,” he said, as composed as always despite the force with which he held her against him. The flat of a wet tongue swiped over the throbbing sore spot he’d just left. “But I think you could use a little more sullying.”

Among his other fine and attractive qualities, his hybrid Sebacean-Scarran strength was one she found most exciting. He kept his lineage well under tight control, so when he dared let some aspect show, it was like seeing him naked.

Still, it startled her how easily he turned her to face him, as though she were an object which could be repositioned as necessary. Clinically, he examined her neck. His sharp face tilted, and his blue eyes in sunken sockets regarded her neck with near disinterest, but his mouth and wrinkled dark-stained lips, quirked into a true smile.

Niem turned her face away from him, biting her lip as he inspected his handiwork.

“It’s a start,” he said.

“Still not dirty enough for you? Sir?” Niem asked, meeting his icy blue stare with her cream-colored corneas.

Scorpius’s smile shifted into a lofty sneer, and half-lidded gaze. She placed her hands on his codpiece without breaking their eye contact and began to undo the fasteners. They only had precious microns, but the unspoken one-upmanship of their recreations in between duties added a significant thrill to the acts themselves.

He didn’t stop her when she detached his codpiece, perhaps expecting to call her on her bluff.

Niem didn’t intend it as a bluff, however, and without a word or gesture from him, lowered carefully to her knees. Kneeling with her high-heeled ankles crossed, her trim uniform could stay in order. She rubbed her face over the front of his leather trousers and breathed deeply the clove scent of his leather oil.

He rumbled deep in his throat above her as she nudged his groin with her face, humming with contentment as he grew hard. Niem’s hands slid up the back of his trousers beneath the tailcoat flap of his uniform, gripping sinewy legs through the fitted material.

He brought one of her hands to his lips, looking down at her and breathing through his teeth. Opening her mouth, Niem dragged her tongue over the fly of his trousers, and with a snarl, Scorpius tugged the long glove down her arm and off her hand, baring her pale, uncovered skin and black painted nails.

While Niem unfastened his fly, Scorpius pulled her hand to his mouth and slipped her index and middle finger into the moist warmth past his lips. Niem unbuttoned his trouser waist and slid her gloved hand inside. Sharp points of jagged teeth scraped along her fingers and she drew out the hardening length of his cock.

As a Scarran-Sebacean hybrid, Scorpius possessed a cock that was more similar to a Scarran’s in shape and texture, at once vulnerable, pink and raw compared to the rest of his flesh, and somehow more brutal, with the ribbed contours and swollen girth toward the middle shaft.

Luckily, the resemblance ended there; the size of the organ was comparable to a well-endowed Sebacean man’s rather than the obscene fifth-limb of the reptilian species, and far more manageable. She hated to think of the act that had created him. Artificial insemination, she hoped.

The ridges on the underside lent some extra sensation when being taken from behind, but there was no time for that now. She held his cock at the base, taking pleasure in how he suckled her fingers and pressed his incisors into the meat at the base knuckles, sharp and painful but just shy of breaking skin.

She planted a kiss on the hot shaft of his cock and his close-mouthed rumbles resonated down her arm. A trail of shivers raced along her spine and to her cunt.

From where she held his cock at the base, Niem drew her tongue along every underside ridge, dipping the tip into the depressions and over the bumps, savoring the salty, natural taste of his skin, breathing deep the aroma of Scorpius’s clean, musky scent.

She drew her tongue over every vein, paying special attention to the places that made him twitch. So much control over himself, he didn’t let slip any other sign of his enjoyment but that. The shaft tapered slightly just beneath the glans, before flaring arrow-like at the coronal ridge and the head. Niem didn’t suck his cock, there was no time to truly savor it, but she did allow herself to drag her tongue over every shape of its surface.

He pulled her fingers out of his mouth, tongued the sensitive web of skin between them at the base with teasing dexterity. She couldn’t help gasping against the slit at the tip of his cockhead. Scorpius chuckled and dragged his teeth over her palm, and with a muted snarl, bit into the meaty swell at the base of her thumb. She stifled a whimper as the pain mingled with the sordid nature of what she was letting him do to her.

Niem allowed herself the pleasure of suckling lightly on the tip of Scorpius’s turgid cock, just enough to taste without marring her flawless cosmetics. Under her uniform, Niem sweated, and between her thighs, moisture welled. She could feel the arousal tickle, and the urge she felt to touch herself was not easily pushed aside, but she was well-practiced in self-denial. It would only heighten things later.

The Aurora Chair’s console hummed and gave the all-clear tone. It was calibrated and ready.

“Niem, I think that’s enough recreation, for now… our next guest is waiting,” Scorpius said, and his normally controlled voice was husky and wavering, edging the line between man and something more primal. It was enough to make her belly flip. Her face burned as she looked up to him. His mouth was downturned and parted, eyes heavily lidded.  

She smirked and gave the underside of his shaft a long, fat lick for good measure before carefully tucking it away. Scorpius, likewise, took special care in pulling her glove back on one finger at a time, covering the bruise he’d just left at the base of her thumb and giving it a squeeze for good measure. With both hands, one of them still tingling with the pain of his bite, she re-fastened the front of his uniform trousers. Moments later, there came a knock on the door into the chamber.

“You may return to your station, Niem,” he said with a wicked smile as she hurriedly re-buckled his codpiece. The armor effectively hid his erection, and she found it most becoming otherwise. Sometimes it was a challenge to keep her eyes on her work. That would be even more difficult, now.

She hurried to her workstation, heels clipping the hard floor at a brisk pace, smoothing her uniform as she went. The last thing she thought to do was arrange her hair and straighten her high collar to hide the teeth marks. The soreness there, and on her hand, would be a pleasant reminder until the end of her shift.

The door opened, and the guards entered, dragging the Sebacean spy who’d been caught imitating Officer Larak. He offered no resistance, but it was clear that he was nervous.

“Welcome,” Scorpius said with a smile for the impostor, once more in full control of his voice. “Please, won’t you have a seat?”

Niem kept her amusement with his facetious hospitality to herself, watching the guards pull the man to the chair. He offered some small protest in an absurd fake accent, which was ignored, of course.

Her mind returned to her duty. She had work to do, and lucky for her, she found it almost as enjoyable as the recreation.


End file.
